This week's column

Too much fun and not enough sleep
My normally boring, humdrum life was interrupted last weekend, in a good way.
I teach a class of 8th grade girls on Sunday mornings at my church and we had a weekend gathering at my house.
The evening started with lots and lots of food. We had enough pasta to feed two armies. The food fest continued throughout the evening with various forms of junk food and candy.
They are a good bunch of girls that enjoy sitting around and talking as much as anything else.
My dogs also enjoyed their visit. Duke, my corgi, got more attention than any dog really needs, and Boo, my rambunctious chocolate lab, even got to come in once in a while for small amounts of time when he wasn’t wound up.
These girls overflow with joy and excitement. It’s almost contagious.
They introduced me to some pop music, most of which I had to admit I never had heard of. They talked about their friends, school and the daily trials of a 13-year-old.
We also played a few games. One of which was truth or dare. One of the gals kept picking dare, which resulted in making her face up like a clown, a strange hairdo and forcing her, a U of L fan, to wear a UK sweatshirt.
You’d think she’d start picking truth after a while, but I guess to a 13-year-old, truth can be more dangerous than a dare.
At around 1 a.m. they decided to watch a movie. Now, I’m not normally a night owl, so I was already half asleep at this point. About an hour into the movie I had to wimp out on them. We had to get up at about 7 a.m. the next morning to be somewhere so I knew I had to get some sleep so I wouldn’t be a grumpy stick-in-the-mud the next day.
I heard the next morning that they headed to sleep at 3 a.m. but they did more talking than sleeping.
We all got up the next morning to do the Clarity Solutions for Women Walk for Life. I expected grumpy faces that would gripe the entire time. I got just the opposite. They got up ready to go and excited for the day. After little sleep, they still had enough energy to walk way ahead of me and get to the destination way before I did.
We hung out at Barnes and Noble and had a fun lunch together, and then the girls went home. Boo and Duke both spent the rest of that Saturday pouting because they missed their new friends.
It took me at least a week to recuperate from staying up late one night. It was one of those “I’m not as young as I used to be” moments.
My point in writing this isn’t just to describe a class overnighter. It’s to encourage you to be active and involved with the lives of young people today.
I, in no way shape or form, am considered “cool.” I don’t have an exciting life. I don’t even have cable. You don’t have to be hip or cool to interact with teens. You just have to show up.
Teens today have more hurts and worries than I could ever imagine having when I was their age. They don’t really need someone who’s “cool.” They just need someone who cares, and anyone can do that.
Take the time to listen to them, they can even sometimes be insightful. You might learn something.
Invest yourself in the lives of teens; they are our future.
And judging by the teens I hung out with last weekend — Mallory, Anne Alyse, Riley and Qarman — our future looks bright.

This Week's Column

'Autumn, the year's last, loveliest smile.' - William Cullen Bryant
It’s time again for my annual column dedicated to how wonderful fall is. I spend more than half of the calendar year waiting for its arrival.
I tolerate the cold of winter, take some joy in the spring and suffer through the summer — all in anticipation of the coming of fall.
A week from today it finally officially arrives.
Everything about this time of year is incredible. Our amazing creator saves the most beautiful hues of his color pallet for this season, and I feel blessed to live in a part of the country that gets to enjoy the beauty of it.

As I look out the window I already see some of the trees in the parking lot beginning to put on their fall colors. It’s almost as if the entire experience of this time of year is candy coated in golden tones.
With fall comes the feeling of being a kid again. It’s perfectly acceptable to enjoy a hayride, roast hot dogs and jump into a pile of leaves. No excuses are necessary. Not to mention the appearance of caramel apples and pumpkin spiced everything.
Fall also means it’s time for football and all the greasy deliciousness of game time junk food. Nachos, chili, wings — need I go on. Going to a local high school game or attending your favorite college team’s games is always enjoyable in the fall. It’s too hot in August and too frigid in the winter, but games in late September and October are perfectly delightful.
With the coming of fall there’s also a chill in the air. It’s not so much you actually feel cold, but just enough that a sweatshirt is necessary outdoors. After the warmth we’ve experienced this summer, the arrival of fall is a welcome sign to even the most dedicated summer souls.
When fall arrives, I pull out the apple- or spice-scented candles to enjoy the scents of the season too. The scarecrows and mums take their places on the front porch, and the flowers that I couldn’t keep alive in the summer are tossed away to make way for the fall décor.
It’s also harvest time. An army of combines and grain trucks can be seen across the landscape, picking crops. The fields are emptied and sleep through the winter until the spring planting time arrives.
Some of the most beautiful fall scenes involved a combine in the field with the backdrop of a beautiful sunset behind it.
I’m sure everyone has their favorite season, but In my mind, fall tops them all.
I could go on about this time of year and gush about its splendor.
Already I can smell the chili cooking, feel the cool fall air and smell the sweet autumn-spiced scents just thinking about it.

This week's column

When sitting down to write this column, for some reason I have a thousand whys circling in my head. It’s almost like a “Seinfeld” episode rattling around in my brain.
Some of my whys are funny and some deep questions. But I ask you … why?
Why do I have a land line and a cell phone? How many phones do I really need?
Why does Friday always seem so far away and Monday always seem too close?
Why did that lady in England throw the cat in the trashcan after petting it? That’s just weird.
Why did I cry so many times last week hearing the stories of Vietnam veterans?
Why can’t I remember what I did yesterday?
Why does my computer hate me?
Why can I not remember much of what I learned throughout my education but I can remember all the words to “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Aire” theme song?
Why is my co-worker, Robert, already talking about ghost stories when Halloween is still a few months away? I don’t like ghost stories.
Why are some people mean to children? I just don’t understand that one.
Why did the lady I called with a billing question this morning give me nothing but attitude? Where’s the customer service?
Why does coffee no longer wake me up during the day, but if I drink it at night I can’t sleep?
Why can’t I get “The Fresh Prince of Bel-Aire” theme song out of my head? "In West Philadelphia, born and raised/ on the playground is where I spent most of my days ..." Now it’s in your head too.
Why do all the foods that are good for you not taste as good as the foods that are bad for you?
Why do kids have to grow up so fast?
Why do fools fall in love? Oh, wait, that one’s already taken.
Why does my dog think I have to be awake in the middle of the night with him when there’s a thunderstorm?
Why did George Lucas have to ruin the “Star Wars” movies with Episodes I and II?
Why did I dream the other night that I interviewed the Rolling Stones and Mick Jagger was in a wheel chair?
Why is it that I can easily eat in excess, and we can’t feed the starving children around the world?
Why can’t I seem to finish writing my book?
Why can’t UK be good at basketball and football?
Why is it always so cold in the newsroom?
Why in “The Empire Strikes Back” do they start pronouncing Han Solo’s name wrong after he’s frozen in carbonite? That’s always bugged me.
Why do people say Wal-Marts?
Why do the girls in my 8th grade Sunday school class want to bring the 1980s back? Seriously. The music was good, but the fashion? It wasn’t that good the first time around.
Why can’t I dance?
Why do joy and sorrow both end with tears?
Why are The New Kids on the Block still called “kids” when they are all in their 40s?
Why don’t people burst out in song in the middle of the day like they do in musicals?
Why are you still reading this column?
Why?

This Week's Column

It's so hot that...
In case you haven’t noticed, it’s been pretty hot around these parts lately.
It’s been hard to cool off for anyone. Just the other day I found a neighbor’s dog hanging out in my pond to cool off. It was 7 a.m.
There’s not a lot to consider funny when it’s this hot out, especially with no rain and farmers' crops in danger. So, to find some humor in the heat, I searched the Web for some “How hot is it?” jokes.
Many I found were not the type of jokes that are fit for the paper, but here are a few that could be printed.
I’m not saying they’re all hilariously funny. They’re just what I found, and they might leave you a bit cold. Da da da ching. That’s a rim shot, in case you were wondering.
So, how hot is it? It's so hot ...
Today I saw a chicken lay a fried egg.
Potatoes cook underground, so just pull one out and add butter.
Farmers are feeding their chickens crushed ice to keep them from laying hard-boiled eggs.
Cows are giving evaporated milk.
A seat belt buckle could be used as a branding iron.
When the temperature drops below 95, you feel a bit chilly.
The best parking place is determined by shade instead of distance.
You break a sweat the instant you step outside at 7:30 a.m.
All the corn on the stalks started popping and flying through the air.
All the water buffalo at the zoo have evaporated.
Campbell Soup Company has changed the directions on its cans to "just pour and eat."
The chocolate factory became a milkshake.
You can attend any function wearing shorts and a tank top.
Your electric bill is higher than your house payment.
You start putting ice cubes in your water bed.
You realize asphalt has a liquid state.
You keep your refrigerator open just to feel the cool air.
By walking for three seconds you lose 100 pounds.
You keep humming the song, "Heat Wave."
You cancel your Hotmail account because you didn't like the name of it.
Your dream house is any house in Alaska.
You’re not even sure how hot it is because your heat thermometer only goes up to 120.
I hope you brought the champagne glasses because it is toasty out.
And then there are the "It's hotter than" jokes.
It's hotter than ...
A $2 pistol on the Fourth of July.
A firecracker lit at both ends.
Georgia asphalt.
High noon in Death Valley.
A hen laying eggs.
How about ...It's so hot I could spit fire.
Or ... It's hot enough to cure tobacco.
And, finally ... It’s Africa hot.
I’m not sure I know what any of that means, but I’ve heard people say a few of them.
Maybe this will give a little comfort for the crazy heat.
Or, you could just get back inside, pump up the air conditioning and drink a tall glass of lemonade. You deserve it.
After all, with the weather these days, you can break a sweat getting the mail.

This week's column

Oh, the things we do
I recently finished writing an article about the health risks of wearing high-heeled shoes and began to wonder why we, as women, do these things to ourselves?
Seriously. Do we realize all the things — sometimes painful — we do to ourselves just to look halfway decent during the day?
There’s plucking and waxing — and I don’t care how you do it, ripping hair off of someone’s face doesn’t feel good. Then there’s the crazy stuff we do to our hair: perming, curling and ironing. How many of us have been burned more than once by a curling or flat iron?
Shaving one’s legs is no picnic either, and one really must develop some skill in doing it just right, especially in the shower.
The torture of all tortures has to be shoes. High heeled shoes are complete torture to the feet. And let’s be honest, they also make us walk funny. First there’s the clomping noise we make as we cross the floor and then the awkward steps we take to try not to break something while balancing ourselves so we don’t fall over. In reality, no matter how tall they make us, is that really attractive?
Let’s not forget the diets. They come in every shape and form and most of us have tried them all. When they don’t work we do tortuous exercising to get a quick result. If we stop and think about it, that isn’t always the healthiest way to treat our bodies.
And some of the fashions we attempt to wear — they’re not comfortable. Skinny jeans only really work on skinny people, which reverts back to the crazy diets.
Throughout the history of fashion, very few trends for women have ever resulted in anything resembling comfort. The flip flop may be one exception and a welcome escape from the high-heeled shoe.
Curling eyelashes, coloring hair, makeup — it all takes effort. Then there are those who go to the extreme and have permanent makeup and cosmetic surgery.
And who are we doing all this for? Do we do it to make ourselves feel better or to make sure we remain attractive to men?
Men have it a bit easier, don't they? Yes, they go on diets, too. But how many women out there have gone on a diet the same time as a man, who, with minimal effort, loses 30 pounds when you’ve barely lost 10? And what about fashion?
Sure, occasionally men have to tuck in their shirts, but how much effort does that really take? For a woman to be considered dressed up, she has to do most of the above — plus put on a fancy outfit. Men just have to throw on a pair of khakis, put on a belt and tuck in a shirt and suddenly they're considered dressed up. Most of them don’t even bother with a tie anymore.
Does this mean I think men should try to do the crazy things we do? Even if just to sympathize? No. That would just be weird.
This column isn’t an attempt to bash men. It’s just me venting frustration about all it takes for a woman — well, most women I know, anyway — to feel attractive.
Will the realization of the torture we inflict on ourselves make me or any of the rest of us stop doing it? Probably not.
I’ll still fire up the flat iron every morning to straighten the kinks out of my hair, suffer through my current diet and pluck whatever needs to be plucked. After all, I do want to feel like a lady at the end of the day.
It would just be nice if there were a few less-painful ways to feel that way.
I'm thinking now would be a good time for a pedicure just to recuperate.

This week's column

And in other news...

While recently watching a television commercial that parodied Facebook updates calling them "breaking news," I wondered: What would life look like if random status updates from "friends" on Facebook made up the sum of a person's day?
By using actual status updates posted by my friends, a day in my life might go a little bit like this:
I am still in the bed. Do I have to get up? I watched heat lightning on our porch last night along with music and popcorn saying, “Moon, you are so full and so close, I could almost reach out and touch you.”
So, let's see how this day goes without any sleep last night. It should be interesting.
I’m making lists, checking things off and doing the cross fit "thang" again today … I’m scared.
After two cups of Venetian coffee and half a Diet Coke, I'm still sleepy. The doctor just came in and they are keeping her another day, but I got a kitty.
There was crying in baseball last night. Owen got stung by a bee. But there's no laughing in journalism.
I’m somewhere in Tennessee listening to '80s on 8 on Sirius radio. Only five and a half more hours to go, but sitting in the Seattle airport gets me ticked off.
The artist who aims at perfection in everything achieves it in nothing, which is why Mickey is a butterfly killer.
I officially watched every episode of “Star Trek: Deep Space 9” twice and am now exhausted and ready for a break.
A friend’s fortune cookie said, "good news will come to you from far away," which is why she’s having a yard sale, because you know she rolls diva style.
Looking at the five-day forecast and the biggest number I see is 85 — cold front — but remember some people walk in the rain, others just get wet.
I’m in a food rut and never making popcorn ever again.
I can’t get Randy Travis’s “Diggin’ Up Bones” out of my head, and no, I don’t know why it’s there in the first place.
I’m wishing I could be a little kid again; life was so much easier and fun.
You know you're getting old when it takes the whole week to recoup from the weekend.
Hollie Sexton wears a raspberry beret and walks in through the out door.
I thought yesterday was the most beautiful day outside ever. Then I saw today.
I climbed into the lion cage today. No big deal, but I went rogue a long time ago.
It was such a fat day of disappointments but what a beautiful day. Oh, and there's a snake in my boot.
I just finished my column and it's a random bunch of nothingness, but I hope you enjoy it …Oh wait, that one’s mine.

This week's column

My grandfather's things...
Last week my grandfather, Richard Baughman, passed away.
As the family gathered, I and my cousin's 11-year-old son, Chase, found some things my grandfather had tucked away in drawers and boxes. Some were sweet, some were significant and some were just a bit curious.
Papaw was a man of great faith, heart and constant humor. This was evident in the collection Chase found.
He has lists tucked in every Bible, book and drawer of people he had prayed for all his life. Bible tracts scattered throughout, which he used when he would share his faith with others. His faith was his passion, and it was one of the things I admired most about him.
We found a name badge from the days when he was a meat cutter at Kroger. We found random newspaper clippings — why he kept some of these clippings we may never know, but they must have been things he wanted to remember.
There were a few articles written about him. One was about his retirement from Kroger and the beginning of his many years volunteering at the hospital. Another was about the many hours of cardiac rehab exercise he logged.
In one box were medals from his military service during World War II: a bronze star, a good conduct medal, and ribbons from European and North African campaigns. He did not display his medals; they were tucked inside a drawer. His service was never about him. It was about his country.
We also found photos and other mementos from his service in his box of treasures.
Chase spent a lot of time with those treasures — antique items he’d never seen before that caught his fascination.
There were cards made for Papaw or given to him by loved ones. Some were homemade cards, given to him by his daughters and granddaughters, that had yellowed with time.
They were special to him.
Among the collections that held significant memories were bits and pieces of his humor. We found a plastic finger with an electric chord attached to it called an electric nose cleaner, some plastic vampire teeth and a few other goofy things.
There also were tons of watches, the time on them now standing still. It seemed he never threw one away.
Chase found pocketknives, including one with his dad’s business name on it. Random items such as stamps, coins, pins and other items were discovered, as well.
For Chase, three of these items reminded him most of Papaw: the electric nose cleaner, the Army medals and the Kroger name tag.
The nose cleaner reminded him that Papaw, or Poppy as he called him, was always funny. The medals showed his support for our country, and the Kroger name tag was a remnant from the place where he worked for so long and where so many people came to know him. He was famous, you might say.
Regardless of what the items are, they all are pieces of his life before we knew him and during the time we were fortunate enough to experience his love and charm. Pieces of who he was: a great man who left great memories and a legacy of faith, humor and love to his family.